Final Cut
by Female Phenom
Summary: I can't really summarise this but i will try. A superstar gets sacked and is forced to consider his life and himself. Please Read and Review
1. Default Chapter

A/N Very descriptive. I did have one star in mind whilst writing this but it could apply to any of them.  
  
At first glance the arena appears abandoned. The show is long finished, the stars, crew and crowd had long gone leaving only their debris. Across the floor lies a slight scattering of rubbish, drink cartons, pop corn tubs an sweet wrappers. A silent hush encases the huge space. There are only a few lights left on, enough to see by but only dimly. Even the shadows remain still respecting the silence and serenity.  
  
Presently a figure detaches itself from the shadows, the sound of its feet creating a hollow echo as it makes its way to ringside. It jumps the guard- rail, stops and climbs onto the apron and to the top of the turnbuckle where it sits, eyes roaming the darkness sadly.  
  
The inky shape is at ease with the darkness and eerie quiet of the deserted ring. Its blank eyes search the empty seats and blank titan tron for a relief from its pain. Somehow the figure belongs to the darkened arena, it is connected with its surroundings and there is an unshakeable feeling of the past and history in the air around it. The figure seems at home, its purpose and point is to be here.  
  
Despite this there is an air of dejection, despondency and depression to this lone silhouette. A forlorn desolation envelopes it and its melancholy state is intensified by the deserted arena. A hand reaches to its facing, chasing away an unbidden tear as it surveys the remote darkness.  
  
The wretched figure gives a sigh and all hope is lost. More tears race down its large cheeks but the penumbral shape no longer cares. It shakes, as its form is overcome by sobs, a hollow, haunting sound that reverberates and fills the desolate space.  
  
Suddenly the figure leaps from the turnbuckle, pacing the ring, trying to compose itself. It becomes lost in memory and is no longer alone. For a moment the figure straightens, growing proud as it immerses itself in the past. It raises its hand above its head in victory, almost exultant in its production of this past recollection but as suddenly as the gloom lifted, it descends again and the figure seems to age. Finally halting, its shoulders slumped in unmistakable defeat.  
  
The weary shape leaves the ring slowly, silently ascending the ramp, pausing at the top and turning to face the deserted expanse. The figure studies the sombre darkness, recreating past triumphs in a futile attempt at optimism.  
  
All the seats are full, the whole arena buzzing and the ring announcers voice is barely audible over the crowds delighted cheers. As if watching a film the figure sees itself, younger and stronger, moving down the ramp to rapturous applause. The arena is plunged into darkness as its opponent makes their grand entrance but within seconds they are fighting. The figure watches the ghost of itself, reliving the most dramatic fight of its life. The referee announces the shape victorious and the shape raises his hand signalling his win. The ghost turns to face him and is gone.  
  
Suddenly ripped from his memory, the figure comes back to reality. The seats are again empty, silent and the shape is again alone. The figure becomes aware of the moist tears upon its cheek and rubs them away, turning and exiting through the curtain.  
  
Behind the retreating figure the arena plunges into darkness and all is still, silent and serene once more.  
  
So they we are! PLEASE review! I may do a follow up from the perspective of the superstar, I'm not sure yet! 


	2. The Figure

A/N- as pointed out in my last chapter this story was based on my muse but only because he is my muse and if it wasn't based on him it could be based on any of them.  
  
Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters mentioned in my story and the opening passage is from The Becoming part two (Buffy)  
  
  
  
"The big moments are gonna come, can't help that. It's what you do afterward that counts. That's when you find out who you are"  
  
Was this my big moment? Does my whole future now rest on this decision.  
  
I pace the long dark halls angrily, my footsteps echo way ahead of me and enter the darkened arena before I do but they get lost in the darkness.  
  
Yeah the darkness.  
  
It consumes everything and makes it his own. You see darkness isn't jut a thing, its a person! I used to think I knew that person but now I know I don't! If I did he wouldn't have done this to me. Wouldn't have stolen the most important thing in my life away.  
  
The most important thing, it is my life!  
  
The squared circle stands ahead of me, mocking me. I know that if I was caught in another battle within it…but I will never have another battle in it, no more fighting for me. This thought angers me as I slide down the ramp a look of intense sadness on my face. I'm supposed to be tough but how can I be?  
  
'When I'm stressed I take it all out on a punch bag!  
  
Really? I pump iron for a bit!'  
  
I remember this conversation between Dwayne and Paul. During it I kept quiet, hoping that they wouldn't ask me (not that the two most self- obsessed members of the fed would show any interest in others) They never did so I had no need to tell them that my relaxation came from sitting in an abandoned arena when everyone had left. I feel a strange comfort from the deep, dark shadows that encase the empty space. They hide me from the world.  
  
With much practised ease I disappear into the shadows, we merge and become one. This is a place for reflecting and reflect I shall. From where I'm stood, at the top of the bottom section of seating, with quite away between me and the lit ringside, I can see the whole ring and the seats that surround it. The ring has a light covering of rubbish, popcorn tubs, burger wrappers and drink cartons. The only mark left by the crowd, a reminder of their discontent. Not that I can blame them I'd felt like throwing a myself in the ring let alone a empty food container.  
  
I suddenly feel the need to be there, to touch the debris in the ring and to feel the cool plastic of the ropes, so I start down the stairs and into the ring. For a man my size the guard-rail provides no problem and I deftly climb it. I feel an unusual need to be in the ring and I leap onto the apron, ignoring the pain it causes me. As I begin to step over the ropes I feel a miraculous calm descend in both my mind and my body. I've made it!  
  
The only thing I hear, as I stand still leaning against the ropes, is the slow pumping, beating rhythm of my heart. I find this sound strangely comforting, its proof that I'm alive because I feel dead inside. I leave the ropes and walk to the corner that would be straight ahead of JR on his left, had he been at the announce position. I ascend the turnbuckle and sit on the top. I stare blankly ahead as I try to come to terms with myself and the days announcement.  
  
I'm supposed to be a tough guy, but as I consider my fate I feel the warm, dampness of a tear sliding down my cheek. I brush it aside with a be-gloved hand before raising my eyeline so I stare straight into the ring, my home. As I realise what has happened and the numbness is gone, I am overcome by grief and my body is overcome by sobs, loud uncontrollable echo's of pain and I feel my last ounce of self control dissipate. With one swift movement I leave the turnbuckle, landing lightly on the mat.  
  
I began to pace the ring, a futile attempt to regain my composure. I sigh and lose myself in memories, replaying my past as I live it again, my most glorious victory. I straighten my shoulders as I stand triumphant, but as the realisation that there will be no more I snap, I sigh and all the air of my body leaves and my shoulder slumps.  
  
I turn and leave the ring, walking up the ramp without looking behind once. At the top of the ramp I pause and turn to face the ring, surveying the whole deserted space, feeling my strength drain away. As I become lost in memory's I relive my past. I am no-longer alone, as the arena comes alive. The crowd go silent as my entrance begins, and a ghost of myself appears behind me. I move to let the spectre past and he ignores me never taking his eyes from off the massive structure in front of him, a structure so imposing that it makes my phantom shudder as he shakes it, proving to himself its there. I jump at the sound of my opponents entrance and move to let him past. He is too interested in my doppelganger to care about the structure in which are battle will take place. I watch the illusionary match play out in front of me, though I know who will emerge victorious. Sure enough it is my ghost who gets his hand raised victorious. I raise my hand in a salute of victory, as my spectre turns to face me. However as we make eye contact the vision begins to fade. The steel shape disappears as do the phantom wrestlers. As the hallucination ends I feel content, knowing that this emotive incident has shown me the way forward. I become aware of the tears moistening my cheeks rub them away. I turn, exiting the arena without another glance. Somehow I know that behind me the arena is dark, and the little light that was there is gone. As I walk down the corridor my footsteps echo ahead of me, exiting the building before me. 


	3. The mind

A/N- as pointed out in my last chapter this story was based on my muse but only because he is my muse and if it wasn't based on him it could be based on any of them.  
  
All things must end.  
  
One of the few sayings that actually make sense. When people say that to you its always because something terrible has happened, some tragedy has struck and you are left in its wake, to deal with the aftermath. My tragedy is self-inflicted so I guess it isn't really a tragedy is it?  
  
As ever I'm avoiding the issue, my wife always says she hates when I do that. She also says I do it a lot. I can't help it, in my life I've always been prone to ignoring the problem, to hiding until it goes away, emerging only when its safe and the big bad's gone.  
  
Like this. I've known for ages it was coming. Each morning its harder to get out of bed. Everyday seems a bigger challenge, its an uphill struggle and every day the hill gets steeper.  
  
I guess what shocked me was the way it happened. It's almost like I was sacked! Me! I didn't even expect it so soon. I arrived back in the locker room and found Ric waiting for me. When he said he was waiting for Vince and they need to talk to me I knew it was serious. Never for a moment did I expect this! After all they usually said it was up to each individual wrestler as to when they retired.  
  
So I sit with Ric and moments later Vince comes in. I'm still trying to figure out what it is, a call for my resignation is the last thing I expect. "So guys, what's up?" I ask my mind (and stomach) in turmoil "We need to talk about you, you health and your job…" Ric starts and the idea begins to dawn on me "Now we know how much this business means to you but you have to start thinking about yourself! Your health is getting worse and you can not keep up working so much. We know what the doctors opinion of you is and we feel that you should consider taking it easy for a bit"  
  
"Are you giving me the sack?"  
  
"No," Flair wasn't very convincing in his argument "We are just trying to get you to consider your options!"  
  
Which means that I'm sacked. Somehow it doesn't register and I sit in stunned silence as Vince and Flair leave quietly. I'm still sat in the same position when my friend comes in to retrieve his belongings.  
  
"Are you coming?"  
  
"Err…no!" I'm too shocked to even register the comment. I've no idea how long I sit in the locker room, idly thinking until I came to the decision to go to the ring which is how I ended up here.  
  
I guess this is the end, it sure feels like it. Vince and Flair made it clear I would still have a job behind the scenes but it isn't the same. Or is it? I try and get my head around giving up the job that I love and its too much. How can I? this is all I've ever wanted, all I've worked for! I'm not ready to give it up! But then I don't have a choice!  
  
After all, all things must end. 


End file.
